Logan's Truths
by sweetiepie1019
Summary: Logan and the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism! Yup, that's a catch for ya. Futureric and definite crackfic. Humor me and read. LoVe and tiny bit of MaDi. Rated T for two bad words and saying sex.


AN: I know, I know! I should be writing more on my WIP. But I just got inspired! Plus the next chapter of Summer just isn't coming right. Grrrr. So here is a nice story in time for the S3 premiere! Sorry about any harm to Buddhism I may cause. I've just started studying it in Comparative Religion, so I'm not completely sure I'm right on all this stuff. Tell me if I'm wrong.

P.S. I love iPods! I just got my first, and let me tell you, it rocks! YAY iPOD!

Disclaimer: If I owned VM, Piz would be interested in a wall (because I kinda like him, just not around Veronica), LoVe would never, ever, ever break up (but still angst), and Mac and Dick would make out on a regular basis. The fact that none of these things are happening are an indication that this stuff? Ain't mine.

**Logan's Truths**

Logan was thirty when he found out about Buddhism.

Not found out as in first heard of, obviously. Besides, at this point, actually long before that point, of his life, he was way too screwed up to follow any kind of religion. And Buddhism? Definitely not gonna happen. He couldn't even get past Right Association, because he was pretty sure Dick (who he still saw almost every day, damn making sense) didn't qualify. Trina couldn't possibly count either, being that drugged-up welfare mother every week on TV. So yeah. Not exactly Buddhism material.

But if he respected any religion, it was Buddhism. It was a way of thinking more than people trusting some amazing God to save them. And he related to the Four Noble Truths. Talk about relating to your life

_Dukkha – all life is suffering_

That went without saying. Dead girlfriend, dead mother, abusive father, murdering father, dead father, comatose best friend, secret girlfriend that's BFF's ex, secret girlfriend kicks him emotionally in balls twice, problems on a bridge, slight problems in court, blood on a knife, no friends, no girlfriend, no parents, trials and courts, dead faces, Lily on Aaron, Duncan with Veronica, alcohol, alcohol, alcohol, prom, epic, parties, Cassidy on a roof, gun at Veronica, Veronica with gun, Cassidy on the edge of the roof, having nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing to say, Cassidy gone, Beaver gone, innocence gone, and Veronica broken in his lap.

And all before college.

The fact that he had nothing to say, that he couldn't have done anything to stop a scared little boy murderer from jumping off a roof grated on him. All he could think of doing now was to use alcohol to try to make him forget. Veronica had snarked, snapped, and screamed in an attempt to show him how wrong he was. It wasn't until she left that he really got it.

_Samudaya – suffering is caused by desire_

That sums up his entire relationship with Lilly. And most of his relationship with Veronica.

It also sums up his job nicely. Veronica leaving and the removal of alcohol had dulled his impulsive temper, leaving more of a smoldering anger. Anger at his complete inability to change all this shit happening to him. Veronica, at least, was able to catch the people who screwed her over. He didn't think he could do that, though. He was hardly inconspicuous, being an Echolls and all, and the idea of a thousand stakeouts wasn't exactly thrilling.

So he'd ended up as a pro-bono criminal lawyer. Getting kids out of abusive homes, putting gang members in jail, and getting the guy who killed the girl. It was a satisfying hell. Every day he rubbed up against his old wounds. Every time he lost he felt Lilly and Lynn at his back all day; when he sent some smug bastard to jail, he'd smirk at memories of Aaron and Cassidy, and heal a little. He moved to a tiny apartment in NYC, spending most of his time pouring over evidence for his career or talking to Dick, the least sensitive depressed teen counselor he'd ever met. He loved the baseness of his apartment, and the fact that he kept all indications of wealth far away from him. He wasn't sure if their determination to make up for their past was an unhealthy spiral or noble. All he knew was that he was good at what he did, and his biting sarcasm and ability to look good in a suit was at last put to society-benefiting use.

Of course he never stopped wanting Veronica. Just not in that desperate, poor-me, needy way he used to. She was just an ache he could push away, so long as he didn't do anything that reminded him too much of her. He dated once or twice, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause. He was named NYC's unofficial unobtainable eligible bachelor in the clubs, the son of that hunk Aaron Echolls, amazingly rich yet working to help the poor. It didn't matter. He'd never been the settling down type, and in retrospect, maybe Veronica knew that.

Which was why he was so surprised when Veronica showed up at his door.

_Nirodha – end of suffering_

They fought. And had sex. And fought some more. Didn't they always? In the end, he told her to get the hell out after she accused him of putting men like Aaron in jail but turning into a person like Lynn. Before she slammed the door, he yelled after her that he'd been sober for seven years. Ever since she left a note on her pillow. "I love you when you're sober. When you are again, find me." Wasn't she better than that kind of cliché? Didn't she ever wonder why he hadn't looked for her when he hadn't had a drink since the night before she left? That in seven goddamn years, maybe he'd gotten over her?

He wished he had her note now, so he could throw it in her face or burn it or something, instead of figuring it must be rotting outside of their Neptune apartment where he'd tossed it. He wished he'd been able to handle her with the dignity he'd handled her desertion and all the time without her. He really wished he'd been able to finish his first sentence before she was gone and hadn't shouted most of that stuff at the door.

He noticed her two days later at the back of the musty court when he was in the middle of questioning a thirteen year old about her sexually abusive grandfather. He didn't skip a beat as he realized that the woman in the back with the brunette bob and glasses was his pint-sized PI, and that she'd been watching him for about a month. He'd seen her before; he'd assumed she was a small-time reporter, following the charity case lawyer who was worth millions before he started giving it out to his own clients. Clever, of course. She had the press badge, the outfit, a slight duck to her head that concealed her face without being obvious. He hadn't even given her a second glance.

He didn't acknowledge her for a week. When he did, it was to pause on his way out to tell her that her wig was coming off, and that stalkers were illegal in this state. She caught up with him outside the building and pushed him up against a lamp-post and kissed him.

She moved in within a month, and they were engaged within a year.

_Magga – follow the right path_

They'd been together for two years now. Not without fights, because it was still them, after all. But it was more stable. He didn't drink. Veronica didn't leave. He was needed by hundreds of broke New Yorkers, and he didn't cling to Ronnie, or alcohol, or memories. Veronica was older, and softer, and wiser, from years of being without him and the feeling of being completely safe, and she clung to him a little more. She and Wallace started their own P.I. service; Mac joined Dick at the consuling center. Veronica started to earn a reputation as a spot-on investigative journalist as she wrote pieces on criminals she busted. He liked the nice line-up they made; Veronica and Wallace solved the cases, Veronica exposed the assholes, he locked them up, and Mac and Dick cleaned up the victims.

He wondered how the hell they had all ended up here. But it fit, somehow. Mac and Dick lived together. Wallace was in the apartment next to Veronica and him. Maybe it was the difference between the city and Neptune. Here there was room to breathe; all their past and the shit they'd gone through had allies to hide in and streets to twist through without anyone noticing. He liked it that way. He was a long way away from the Logan who jumped on tables. Veronica and his friends weren't the only ones to be surprised that he had actually grown up.

It was a few weeks to their wedding, and Veronica had a case in this Buddhist temple, where someone was definitely not doing the Right Action. He'd insisted on going with her. He'd been going with her everywhere since he found out she was pregnant, a fact that they'd both decided Keith didn't need to know until after the wedding. He knew he'd be a good dad. It was the last ghost of his past he needed to bury.

Logan was glad he'd gone to that temple, in the end. He'd found that while the whole idea of enlightenment sounded like philosophical bullshit to him, some stuff did hit home. Maybe he'd do one last eccentric Echolls thing and insist his funeral be done Buddhism-style, whatever it was.

Suffering did end, he decided, as he tightened his arm around Veronica as she excitedly outlined the details of her case on their living room couch.

AN: I feel like it got wordy at the end, but I'm damn tired! Not in time for the premiere, but a nice "welcome back" gift for all those who've been absent in the off season.

Lord, I love Shuffle!

Wish me luck on my callbacks! Yay!

Love? Hate? Review!


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